


Drunk Cherry Blossom

by yanatya



Category: West Wing
Genre: F/M, PWP, Standalone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-30
Updated: 2002-04-30
Packaged: 2017-10-11 08:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanatya/pseuds/yanatya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, no, I've lost my cherry!" Starts with the juvenile cherry puns and gets worse from there. Blame the April 2002 State of the Union Cherry Blossom Time! Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk Cherry Blossom

**Author's Note:**

> I've completely lost track of the number of bad puns and juvenile sexual innuendoes in this fic. You have been warned.

  
"Donna!"

  
"Donna!!"

"Donna?" Josh finally wandered out of his office in search of his assistant. It was late Saturday night and he'd promised her a ride home. He found her slumped with her head on her desk, covered up with a big blanket.

He touched her shoulder. "Donna?"

She turned her head so that she could look up at him without getting up.

"Why didn't you come when I called?"

"Hmmm?" She blinked a couple of times.

"Why are you wrapped in a blanket? Are you cold?"

"Yeah." She closed her eyes and snuggled her head against the papers on her desk.

"Are you okay? You look a little, uh, flushed..." Her face was a little red. He brushed some blonde strands of hair away from her cheek and noticed her skin was warm.

"Fine," she mumbled without opening her eyes.

"It's time to go."

"'Kay." He watched as she rose unsteadily to her feet. She swayed a bit.

"Are you okay?" he asked again.

"The other assistants gave me their cherries."

He puzzled about that, but waited a beat so the first thing that jumped into his head didn't make it out of his mouth.

"So why are *you* having trouble walking straight?"

In retrospect, he realised he probably should have waited a bit longer.

She ignored him, though, tottering towards her purse, her arms inside the blanket pulling it into a tight cocoon around her.

"Donna?" His forehead wrinkled.

"Hmmm?"

"You're shedding?" he asked, bending to pick up some of the tiny pale scraps that seemed to be falling softly from Donna as she shuffled around.

She pulled the blanket tighter and leaned down to look at his hand, frowning in concentration. "I am shedding," she confirmed. "White and pale pink. Little petal soft pieces of me falling off all the time."

She straightened so she could look him in the eye. "I'm molting," she observed mournfully.

She turned and shuffled into his office, leaving Josh to stand and watch her with his mouth open.

He looked down at his hand. Petals. He faintly remembered something she'd said about a picnic at the Tidal Basin.

"Donna?" He followed her in to his office. "I have to admit that nothing you've said in the last five minutes makes any sense. Are you tired? Sick? You've got that blanket - you're cold. It's not that cold in here."

Donna halted her unsteady progress towards his mini fridge. "That's because you're wearing a suit," she pouted. "I'm not."

She let go of the blanket and he panicked for a split second, his mind throwing up some crazy idea that she might actually be naked underneath.

She wasn't though. He filed away his initial conclusion for further analysis later.

Of course, what she was wearing invited further analysis now.

"Uh, Donna? Were you wearing that when you came in this morning?" He frowned. Surely he wouldn't have missed that.

"This?" She lifted one tiny, flimsy strap and the little floral sundress rode upwards, revealing even more thigh.

Don't look, he told himself evenly. Don't even think.

That proved difficult. She was standing in front of his desk lamp, the only source of light in his dark office, and he could see the silhouette of her curves clearly through the thin fabric.

She swayed a bit and turned sideways to lean on his desk. The sight of her in profile was even better. Worse. He now knew there was no chance she was wearing a bra. He couldn't help but stare as her nipples slowly puckered and pushed her cotton dress into little tented points in the cool air.

He couldn't help himself. His eyes drifted lower to caress her hips and the curve of her backside. He couldn't tell if she was wearing panties and had to hold himself back from reaching out and running a thumb along her smooth, firm ass, just to check.

He shut his eyes and counted to five. "Why are you wearing that dress in the office?"

"You don't like it?" she frowned, stumbling, thankfully, away from the backlighting of his desk lamp towards the mini fridge.

"It's just, uh, not appropriate for work," he evaded.

"That's your fault," she mumbled, fumbling with the fridge door.

He realised two things. One, that she was holding something in one hand that she was not willing to relinquish in favour of opening the fridge. Two, that she was about to bend over. Right over. While wearing a short, flimsy sundress. And that, in all likelihood, he'd know for sure within about three seconds whether she was...

Wearing panties. Light cotton, with a floral print, just like the dress.

She struggled a bit with the fridge door and he watched her ass wriggle. Her skirt was riding up over her hips and slowly baring the small of her back.

It was at that point that he managed to override his libido, which had been helpfully suggesting a number of scenarios, and realised what it would look like if someone were to walk in right now.

Dirty old man, he thought. He adjusted his trousers a bit. Well, not so much old.

He went over to her quickly and tugged the hem of her dress to a more respectable position. He grabbed a bottle of water for her from the fridge. She seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she'd flashed him.

"What is that in your hand?" he asked suddenly. She set something down on the top of the fridge and grabbed the water from him.

"My cherries," she answered, making her way to his desk and collapsing in his chair.

He counted to five. "Your cherries?"

"Yeah. You can have one if you like."

"Okay." He examined the jar she'd set down. They were cherries, all right, in a rich smelling liquid. He sniffed.

"Donna?"

"Hmmm?"

"You're drunk," he said incredulously.

"That's your fault too." She pouted again and struggled to take the lid off the water bottle.

"Too?" he repeated. "What else is my fault?"

"Everything," she said flatly, thrusting the bottle at him. "Open, please. Eating cherries makes me thirsty."

He cracked the lid and handed it back to her. She took a big swig and tugged the blanket over herself again, covering her bare shoulders and legs. A few more petals fluttered down around her.

"Donna, I hate to point this out, and I certainly realise that there are times when it is more than acceptable to be drinking in this building, but what would you do if the press saw you staggering out of here drunk on a Saturday night when you should have been working?"

"I'd share my cherries with them."

He sighed. "Of course you would." He flopped down into one of the visitor's chairs and prodded around in the jar. He managed to capture a cherry with two fingers. "We'll stay here for just a little while until you can walk without staggering. Then I'll take you home."

The cherry liquid was dribbling down his hand towards his sleeve. He frowned.

"Don't you like Kirsch?"

Of course, he thought. This is non-sequitur night. "The Congresswoman, Kirsch?" He licked his hand to stop the flow of red and popped the cherry in his mouth.

"The brandy."

"Mmmph." His mouth was full of something red, sweet, and alcoholic. He looked around for something to wipe his hands with and finally settled on a kleenex.

"It's good, right?"

The warmth of the alcohol heated a path down his throat. "That's what this is?"

"Yeah."

"How many of these have you had?"

"The jar was full when the others let me have it."

He tipped the jar up so that he could see it better and winced. "So you've eaten more than half. And the booze. Donna - "

"You liked my cherry, right?" she interrupted. A little frown crossed her face.

He sighed. Talking to drunk Donna required a lot of patience. "It was fine."

"Because I could put chocolate on it - "

"No, Donna. It's okay."

"You have to enjoy eating it, or what's the point? I'll get some." She ignored him and stumbled out to her desk, dragging the blanket with her.

He groaned and stared at the little pink and white petals on the floor. Instead of the light schedule of easy meetings he'd expected for a Saturday, he'd had a long day full of surprises. All he wanted to do at the moment was sleep. Sleeping with Donna would be nice, he thought. She was warm and languid right now and would curl up around him perfectly. But the operative word was 'sleep'. Soon. He watched as she made her way back to his office, showing no signs of sobering up, and tried to count his blessings.

Blessing number one. CJ was in California. He didn't want to think of the consequences if she'd walked in earlier, while Donna was flashing her underwear. Yeah. CJ being on the other side of the country was a definite plus.

Blessing number two. Once he'd seen Donna home he had nothing until Monday. A whole day off. For himself. By himself. Okay, there were about a hundred pages of briefing memos for him to read, but other than that, he was free.

"Chocolate sauce." She thrust another jar at him, interrupting his thoughts. He checked the label. Dark chocolate, lots of sugar, but no alcohol.

"Donna, see, there's no booze in this," he lectured, struggling to open the jar. "Why couldn't you have...oh. You did."

"I ate a lot of that too." She slumped back down in his desk chair and pulled the blanket up to her chin.

"Straight from the jar?" He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"I dipped my cherries in it."

He scooped out a bit with his finger and tasted. "This is pretty good."

"I want some!" she exclaimed.

He extended the jar across the desk and she dipped two fingers in, scooping out as much as she could. She started licking her hand contentedly without so much as a thank you.

He tried to avert his eyes from the sight of Donna's wet tongue snaking out to clean the chocolate off her fingers bit by bit. It didn't help that she was making little happy noises as she did so. The room was getting warm, he decided, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of his chair.

"So." He cleared his throat and reached for her water, suddenly thirsty. "Um." He tried to think of a safe topic to pass the time. "Tell me why everything's my fault."

"What's your fault?" she asked between licks.

"Why are you here, in my office, eating chocolate sauce, getting drunk on fruit, and wearing...uh...casual clothes?"

"Because of you." She pouted at her clean fingers and made an impatient gesture. He passed the sauce back to her.

"I think we've established that."

"You said I could leave at lunch."

"You did leave at lunch."

"You promised."

"You did leave at lunch," he repeated.

"And we had a picnic planned. It's the National Cherry Blossom Festival, you know."

"You and the other assistants," he clarified, not wanting her to wander off into the land of cherry blossom trivia.

"Well, not so much planned - " She stopped to coat her fingers with sauce again. "We just thought, hey, I'll bring the blanket, you bring the chips, you bring the sandwiches, you bring the dessert..."

"I get the idea," he interrupted.

"And once our bosses - " She jabbed an accusing, chocolate covered finger at him and he winced as some sauce splattered onto his files. "Let us go home for the day, we'd head over to see the cherry blossoms."

"Were they nice?"

"They were very nice. They're almost done, you know, so when there's wind, the cherry petals all fall down around you. It's like snow, except not cold."

"Ah. So you picked up quite a collection of petals on your, uh, blanket. Picnic blanket. You're not really shedding," he joked.

"I am too," she argued.

He tried to use his gentle, understanding, talk-to-a-drunk voice. "Donna, you aren't. You just didn't shake out the blanket when you came back."

"I am shedding," she said sadly, dipping her fingers into the chocolate sauce again. "All those little pink and white pretty petals are just falling away. No fun. No life. No sex. All gone. Don't know where they fell." She regarded her chocolate covered fingers with a bit of distaste, then started licking them anyway.

He didn't know what to say. He took another swig of water. "Donna, I - "

"Then you called me." She resumed the narrative, snuggling back in her chair again. "Right in the middle of my picnic. And sent me to OEOB. And I thought, why bother changing into my other clothes? Noone's going to see me holed up in a stuffy file room anyway."

"And that's when Bonnie and Ginger and Margaret gave you the cherries?"

"They felt bad for me. Because you suck." She slurped the last of the chocolate off the tip of her fingers and smacked her lips. She seemed happier now that she'd gotten around to insulting him.

"Thank you for going to OEOB. I know it's a tedious job. You were very helpful," he said contritely.

"And then you were in that conference call when I got back. You didn't leave me any dinner."

He decided not to respond to that; anything he might say would only confirm his insensitivity.

"Just a note saying that you'd see me when you were done."

"So you hung around." He was starting to feel guilty.

"Duh."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be," she pouted. "Ick. This chocolate is gross."

He noticed she was looking a little green. "It's really rich. We shouldn't be eating it straight out of the jar."

"Yuck." She shook the now empty water bottle.

"I'll get some more water." He headed back to the fridge. He could hear her murmuring to herself and then heard the clink of glass.

"Donna! No!" He was back over to his desk in a second, pulling the jar of cherries away from her.

"Just one to take the chocolate taste away," she whined. She slid gracelessly out of the chair onto the floor. "You made me drop it. It's around here somewhere."

"Let the janitors take care of it, Donna," he sighed. He was too tired for this - he decided she was going home now, whether she could walk straight or not.

"No, Josh." She crawled under his desk to look and he got another view of her spectacular curves encased in flowery underwear.

"Donna, get up." He tried to stay mad in an effort to keep his arousal in check. His libido was getting creative with its suggestions.

She ignored him. Her voice was muffled by the desk. "Help me, Josh. I've lost my cherry."

He took a couple of steps back so her ass wasn't in view. "Donna..." he said warningly.

"Never mind! Here it is." She climbed to her feet with the cherry in hand. She wrinkled her nose as she examined it. "Ew. It's a bit dusty, but - hey!"

"Let's go home, Donna."

"You took my cherry!"

"Yes, I did. The point of this was to sober you up and get you home. At this rate we'll be here all night."

"And whose fault is that?"

"If I say mine, will you - Donna? Are you, uh - "

"Move," she croaked. He did and she streaked past him out the door.

"Okay," he said to the empty room. "It had to happen." He grabbed a bottle of water and wandered down to the ladies room.

When the sound of her getting sick subsided, he knocked on the door. "Can I come in?" He didn't wait for an answer.

She rinsed out her mouth and accepted the water.

"Feel better?"

"Take me home," she said in a small voice.

"Okay."

*****

She sat quietly at her desk and drained the bottle of water while he gathered his backpack and the remnants of her picnic. He saw she was shivering a bit and threw his jacket around her.

"Ready?"

She didn't respond, but got up and followed him out to his car. He watched her as she settled silently into the passenger's seat. Her energy seemed to have gone.

He pulled out of the parking lot. "There's nothing wrong with losing your petals," he ventured, breaking the silence.

She swiveled her head to stare at him. She must be sobering up, he thought. She's looking at me like I'm crazy.

"What did you say?"

"Earlier. When you said you were shedding - that your petals were dropping off. I just wanted to say, there's nothing wrong with that. It's normal."

She gave him a look. "You're just saying that because it's your fault."

He laughed weakly. "No. Honest. A blossom is young, fragile. It's pretty to look at, but - "

"Eventually it withers and dies. Thanks, Josh. You really know how - "

"It doesn't die," he interrupted. "It becomes, uh, a,..." He gestured with his hand, trying to find the words. "Big, juicy fruit. Full of, uh, nourishment."

"So I'm about to become a stick of gum?"

"And at the centre of the fruit," he continued, ignoring her. "There's a stone. The cherry pit. Which could become a big, strong tree in its own right. If you plant it."

She was silent for a moment. "I could be a tree?" she asked with a little twinkle in her eye.

"You could even make more blossoms of your own," he said magnanimously, happy to see her good mood returning.

"Okay."

They drove in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she spoke again. "So what are you?"

"Hmmm?"

"Well, you're not a blossom anymore..."

"Oh, I'm totally a tree now. Big, strong, defying the wind and yea, all forces of nature..."

"I think you're still at the fruit stage."

"Donna!"

"Old fruit, sure. But nobody's planted your cherry pit yet."

"Nobody needs to plant my cherry pit! I planted it myself. I'm a tree!"

"You're a fruit."

"Tree!"

"Fruit."

"Tree!"

"Wrinkled up old cherry."

"Donna!"

"Oh, all right. Maybe you're at the pit stage. You're planted, but you haven't reached your full potential yet."

He thought about that for a second. "Okay."

"You know, in Wisconsin we have a State Championship Cherry Pit Spit Competition."

"For the sake of this analogy, not to mention my well-being, could we please..."

"Ignore that? Sure."

"Thank you."

"The world record is ninety-five feet."

"What?"

"Someone spit a cherry pit ninety-five feet. Farther, actually."

"Donna..."

"Sorry."

*****

She stumbled as she got out of the car, he told himself. Never mind that she'd managed to make it through the White House parking lot unassisted. She was tired now, and prone to stumbling, and that was absolutely the only reason she was currently draped around him while he opened the door to her apartment. At least she was still wearing his jacket over her little sundress.

She lurched inside once he had the door open. "I just have to, ah..."

"Go." He dismissed her, waving her to her bedroom and the bathroom beyond.

He puttered around, putting some of her picnic supplies in the fridge. Sleep was catching up with him fast, though. He really wanted to get to bed.

"Donna?"

No answer.

He wandered into her bedroom and called her name at the bathroom door. "Donna?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I get my jacket? I wanna get going."

"Sure," she called back. "Just a second."

He sat on the bed to wait for her. After a few moments, he flopped back and closed his eyes.

*****

The early morning sun woke him up. It was streaming in through the window, right onto his face. He groaned.

"Hey," said a sleepy voice beside him. "Get under the covers."

He raised his head off the pillow and surveyed himself. He was sprawled on top of Donna's bedspread, tangled up in a blanket. "Huh?"

"You'll be more comfortable."

He didn't question it. He noticed he wasn't wearing trousers, or his tie, for that matter, but he shrugged off his dress shirt anyway. Slipping into bed beside Donna, wearing only his boxers and T-shirt, he suddenly felt like he could sleep some more.

"Hey," he said softly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stay here last night."

"It's okay. I came out and you were sprawled on my bed, snoring. I didn't have the heart to wake you."

"But you did manage to get my pants off, Donna," he grinned.

She flushed a bit, but smiled back. "I took off your shoes so you'd be more comfortable; it was a natural progression."

"And yet, I managed to keep my shirt."

"Shirts are difficult."

"Sure," he teased.

"Pants are easy. You were already lying there doing nothing. All I did was pull."

"Wow. What you just said was so wrong, on so many levels."

"Oh, shut up." She grinned and punched his shoulder. He chuckled, then turned over and went back to sleep.

When he woke up again later, the sun was a bit higher, and now his limbs were tangled up with Donna's. He'd been right - having Donna's warm body curled up against him was a wonderful feeling. Though not as relaxing as he'd imagined, he decided, adjusting himself just a bit so that she wouldn't accidentally brush up against his morning erection.

He regarded her sleeping face for a few moments, enjoying the soft cast of her features as the sunlight played across them. Catching sight of something in her hair, he plucked at it. It was a cherry blossom petal, warm and limp now, but still holding its clean white colour with just a tinge of pink.

He brushed her cheek with the petal. It really was her colour, he thought. It fit perfectly with her fair skin and hair.

His movement must have wakened her.

"That tickles," she grinned up at him sleepily.

He held the petal out so she could see it, then dropped it on the pillow between them.

"They're probably all over my office, too," he teased.

"Josh." She was suddenly serious, moving closer so she could look him in the eye. "About last night - I wanted to say - the petal thing? It's not really your fault."

"So you're gonna make sure they're all picked up?" he grinned.

"Oh, no," she said flatly. "Last night? All your fault."

"Okay." He accepted this, the smile fading from his face.

"I meant the shedding thing."

"Oh. You losing petals."

"Yeah," she said softly. "That part. Not your fault."

"Oh."

"Really," she said firmly.

"Okay." He was doubtful, and she must have noticed.

"It would have happened anyway," she elaborated. "Whether I was here, working for you, or in Wisconsin, doing whatever the hell I would have been doing there."

He couldn't think of anything to say, so he put his arm around her and pulled her close. She let her head rest on his shoulder and threw an arm across his chest. The feel of her body pressed up against him didn't do anything to diminish the erection he'd woken up with, but the sensation was still strangely comfortable.

"In fact," she mused a bit later. "Working for you? It was like I bloomed all over again. And now I get to be a tree."

He looked down at her and grinned. "Okay. Can I start being me again?"

"You've been very good," she laughed. "Just one more second, I promise." She stretched up and kissed the corner of his mouth. "There."

Thankfully, she laid her head back down on his shoulder immediately. He hoped she hadn't noticed the jolt of arousal he'd experienced when she kissed him.

He took a couple of slow, deep breaths before saying in what he hoped was a casual tone, "What was that for?"

"Taking care of me last night," she mumbled against his shoulder.

"'Kay," he grunted. She sounded sleepy. This could work. She'd fall asleep, and he'd get up, and she'd never know that his cock was getting harder and harder as she snuggled next to him.

Or on top of him. She threw a leg over his and he had to shift his hips a bit to make sure she didn't bump into his erection. Breathe, he told himself. He hoped that she couldn't feel his heart speeding up in his chest.

"Wanna watch the game later?" he asked, striving for a distraction.

"Your place?" she asked softly, lifting her head to look at him.

"Yeah." He hoped he had a normal, sleepy, and above all casual expression on his face.

"I'll bring takeout," she offered, snuggling down against his chest.

"'Kay."

They fell silent. Her hand began tracing gentle patterns on his chest, and he tried to keep his breathing under control. Slow, deep breaths, he thought. In and out. Ignore the aching groin. Eventually she'd stop, and fall asleep, and then he could get up and go home.

"Or," she said. He shut his eyes and stifled a groan as her hand stopped moving and rested on his pectoral, squeezing gently.

"Mmm?" he grunted, not trusting himself to speak.

"We could talk some more about whether or not you're a tree, yet."

"What?" His eyes flew open.

"Because, Josh," she continued playfully. "This definitely feels like a branch."

Before he could react, her hand was in his boxers, squeezing his cock. His hips arched off the bed.

"Donna - " he grated out.

Her mouth came down on his.

*****

He parted his lips to accept her tongue. His hands came up to cup her face and pull her closer to him. He resisted the urge to flip her onto her back, amazed at how far gone he was already.

She was climbing on top of him and he shuffled them both back towards the headboard so that he could sit up. She straddled his lap with his erection between them and stroked him with both hands while they kissed. Her touch was bringing him to completion faster than he would have thought possible, and he knew he was going to have to slow down.

"Donna..." he groaned against her mouth.

She pulled back a bit to sit on his legs, her hands stilling, and grinned at him. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" She brushed the tip of his erection lightly for emphasis and any snappy comeback he might have made got lost in an incoherent moan.

"You really have to stop doing that," he said hoarsely.

She gave him a saucy grin and pulled her top off. "How about this?"

He groaned again; the sight of her rounded white breasts with pink nipples jutting out towards him nearly sent him over the edge.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered, letting his hands caress her sides as they travelled up to cup her breasts.

She bit her lip as she blushed. She suddenly seemed shy and broke their gaze, reaching for his t-shirt. He stopped her by softly squeezing her breasts. She gasped and her hands fell away from him. He pinched each nipple gently before coaxing her to get up on her knees, so that his mouth was at the right level to suckle her.

He swirled his tongue around her nipple a few times before taking her into his mouth. He started sucking lightly, but encouraged by the fact that her hand had suddenly reached out and crushed his head against her torso, he quickly began to build in intensity. He could feel her fingers digging into his shoulders as he worked and he sucked harder.

She made little noises as his mouth moved over her, finally crying out and pushing her hips forward. His hands quickly slipped down into her shorts and found her sex. With little fumbling he located her nub and began fingering it gently.

"Josh!" She bucked against his hand. "Now."

He ignored the obvious implication of her words, but stroked her sex open and thrust two fingers up inside her to rub her inner walls. She began to grind herself against his hand and he pressed her clit more firmly in response. Eventually he was rewarded with the sound of her crying his name and then the twitch of her inner walls against his fingers as she spasmed around him.

He held her close as she came down, gently pulling his hand out of her sex. They kissed slowly, and he reflected that even though he was more aroused than ever, he suddenly wanted to stay in control. She was working his shirt off, though, and the feel of her hands darting across his bare skin wasn't contributing to the long-lasting experience he wanted for them.

When she finally did get his shirt off, she smothered his chest with kisses and began to slide out of his lap so that she could take him in her mouth. He debated for a split second, then pulled her up towards him.

"No," he said.

"Don't you..."

"Yes. But not now."

She grinned. "Well then, it's your turn." She leaned in to kiss him thoroughly. He felt her lips curve up in a smile as she pulled away.

"Hang on." She climbed off him long enough to reach for her bedside table and he took the opportunity to tug his boxers all the way off and reach for her. He slid his hands under the shorts she'd worn to bed to squeeze her ass. He remembered the sight of her underwear last night and groaned.

"Just a second," she chuckled, pulling open the drawer and rummaging around to find protection. He ignored her and peeled the fabric off her, exposing her smooth, flushed skin.

He went with instinct, leaning forward to kiss and nibble at her cheeks. He watched her back arch in surprise, and encouraged, he made his way down to where her leg met her behind.

Suddenly she pulled away. "No."

"Don't you..."

"Yes. But not now." She repeated his earlier words, smiling.

"Okay."

She pushed him back so he was sitting up against the headboard again and straddled him, sliding her tongue into his mouth. Her earlier moment of shyness seemed to have gone and he let her take control, enjoying the feel of her hands and mouth devouring him.

Eventually, she found his cock again and rolled the condom down. "Ready?" she asked breathlessly as she positioned herself.

He dug his fingers into her hips. "Yeah."

She began to sink down slowly and his head fell back against the wall. He closed his eyes. She was tight. He groaned. Very tight. Almost too...

He heard her gasp and opened his eyes. She was wincing a bit and he released the firm grip he'd had on her hips as he'd coaxed her down.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

She nodded, biting her lip.

"You're not." He began lifting her up off him.

"No." She exhaled in a rush. "Just...hold on..." He was still partway inside her as she shifted a bit and he almost came just from those few movements. She took a deep breath, and then another, and he could see some of the tension flow out of her.

Suddenly she pushed herself down on him completely. They both cried out in shock. She stilled again and though he was breathing hard from the strain he brushed a lock of hair out of her face and cupped her cheek.

"Donna?"

"I'm fine," she said, panting. "Hang on..."

She slowly drew herself up off him, shifting her hips as she did so, then sank back down firmly. "See?"

"Donna..." He needed her to move faster and gripped her ass again, trying to communicate that.

"Yeah," she breathed. She grabbed his shoulders and began to ride up and down on him.

He sighed and released her, letting her set the pace. For a few moments, only the sound of their breathing filled the air. Belatedly, he noticed that her eyes were squeezed shut as she moved on him and that she was biting her lip again.

He let his hands skate up and down her back, caressing her, and leaned in to kiss her mouth. She gave a little cry as her teeth released her lip.

"Donna," he murmured, letting his lips soothe hers. "Don't keep it inside. I need to hear you." She choked back a noise and he persisted, "I need to know how you are. How you feel. Tell me." His hand came up to palm her nipple.

"Josh!" she cried out.

He began to squeeze and play with her breasts in earnest and was rewarded as she moved faster on top of him, chanting his name.

He was getting close and he slipped his hand down to brush her clit again. It wasn't long before the sensation overwhelmed her and then she was shouting for him and convulsing around him over and over.

Her spasms clutched his shaft even tighter and he grabbed her hips, thrusting himself up into her for those last few strokes. He pulled her onto him tightly, pushing up as far as he could go, and exploded inside her, calling her name.

*****

He fell back against the headboard and she collapsed on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her and they sat there for a few moments, catching their breaths.

Finally, he had to ease out of her and she sat up, wincing a bit.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I think so." She gave him a shaky smile.

"Donna," he sighed, sliding back down into bed and pulling her to lay on top of him.

"No, really," she mumbled into his shoulder.

He brushed his lips against her hair. "Because I can kiss it better..."

She raised her head to look at him. "Maybe later," she smiled.

"Sure?" he asked, running a hand down to cup her bottom. He let his fingers slip between her legs and she gasped. He frowned.

"Yeah. It's just, y'know, you have a pretty impressive, uh, branch, there."

He fell back on the pillows and started laughing. "You're never gonna let me forget that, are you."

"You were quite metaphorical last night, Josh. Seems a shame to let it go to waste."

"Donna..." he protested, rolling them onto their sides so he could see her face.

She had a teasing expression as she leaned in to kiss him.

*****

"So, Donna..." he said leadingly, a few minutes later.

"Yes, Josh?"

There was no way to ask the question without sounding juvenile or insecure or both, but he had to know. "Was, uh..."

He had an embarrassed look on his face and she suddenly grinned at his discomfort. She kissed him, which was just as well, he decided. He was nowhere near finished exploring her mouth.

"So what was your question?" she asked, many lazy kisses later.

He flushed. "I was wondering...um...because while we were, uh..."

"Yes?"

"Well, I noticed you were, maybe, uncomfortable at first..."

Suddenly she was uncertain, he could tell. Her eyes widened and the smile disappeared from her face.

He pushed on. "I was wondering, if, uh..." He cleared his throat. "If this was the, uh, hmm. The biggest branch you'd ever, uh, seen?"

She relaxed and started to laugh at him. Loudly. "That's your question?" she cackled.

"I was just..." He gave her an embarassed smile.

"Josh, much as I hate to trot out this old chestnut..."

"Chestnut? You couldn't find a cherry metaphor?"

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that size..."

"Yes. Frequently." He grinned at her. "And now, I'm starting to suspect that everyone says that because they're all walking around with small..."

"Josh!" She smacked his arm, still laughing, and he started to laugh as well.

"It was a silly question," he owned.

"Yes, it was," she agreed.

"It's just - you didn't seem completely, uh...and I know things happened fast this time, but next time, if there's something you want..."

"Oh, Josh." She was tearing up and smiling at the same time, and she reached for him. He hugged her close and pressed his lips against her hair.

Sometimes you had to make an ass of yourself, to lower your opponent's defenses and obtain that single, critical piece of information. Any master politician knew that. So he'd put it on the table, making it look like something else, and she'd given him his answer without even knowing it. The way she held him promised it. They would have next times. He tightened his arms around her. Extended, passionate, affectionate take-all-day-to-make-love-to-her next times.

And, as an added bonus, he was racking up the 'attentive, sensitive guy' points like *anything*. He was glad Donna's head was buried against his neck, because he was grinning like a cat with a canary. A blonde, blue-eyed, pink-and-white naked canary.

Whatever.

He was still holding her tight and savouring his masterfully subtle and highly fruitful manoeuvre when she whispered in his ear, "Yes."

He pulled back. "What?"

"The answer to your question," she smiled. "It's yes. You're the biggest."

"Really?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. Happy now?" she chuckled.

"Uh, yeah. Nobody else has ever mentioned it..." he said wonderingly.

"Do you always ask that question?" she asked, grinning.

"Never," he said flatly.

"Ignorance is bliss, huh?"

"Hey!"

"Well, you brought it up, so to speak," she teased.

"Donna..." He kissed her. "I just want to state, for the record, that I didn't really expect you to answer."

"I should hope not."

"Yeah," he agreed. "But having said that, I also want to say thank you."

"You're welcome."

"It's dumb, but I appreciate you telling me."

She smiled at him. "Okay."

He kissed her briefly. "And I mean it. If there's anything you want me to do - us to do - next time..."

"I'll let you know," she assured him. He had a big, goofy smile on his face and she teased him about it before settling in for another lazy makeout session.

It was just as well his mouth was occupied, he thought. Otherwise, in a fit of self-deprecating modesty, he would have been sure to point out that her previous partners, not to mention any names, must have all had smaller than average dicks.

Best to keep that observation to himself.

*****

"We should get up."

"You have reading to do," she agreed.

"Is it anything important?"

"Only if you consider the Deputy Director of the FBI important."

"Oh, that guy. Yeah, he's okay. A little too straight and narrow..."

"That's because he has a sacred duty to uphold the law. He's not a politician, you know."

"Donna!"

She kissed him. "Go. Read. I'll be over with takeout, around, say, five?"

"What are you bringing?"

"I'll surprise you."

"Make sure it's good basketball food."

"Hockey food."

"Whatever. Say..." he leered at her.

"What?"

"Feel like bringing the rest of that chocolate sauce when you come?"

"Um, Josh? You know I barfed up that sauce less than twelve hours ago, right?"

He grimaced. "So no?"

"No. But I'll think of something."

"'Kay." He captured her mouth again and let his hand drift down to caress her breast.

She moaned. "Go."

"'Kay." He tweaked a nipple gently.

"Aahhh...now."

"No shower?"

"Josh."

"I could read here."

"You have a better TV."

"True." He sighed and kissed her one more time before getting up.

She watched him gather his clothes and dress.

"Five o'clock?"

"Five o'clock."

"Don't be late."

"I won't."

He hesitated, then knelt beside the bed to kiss her once more.

"Goodbye. Cherry Blossom."

"Don't call me that."

"'Kay."

"Cherry Pit."

"Doesn't have that affectionate ring to it."

"Nope."

"I'll think of something."

"Same here."

  
THE END

  


 


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